Ouch

I am never been fond of feet at the best of times. I am even less fond of my own foot now it has become a member of a North American tribe.
Last Monday I had a totally unprovoked fight with the hoover at work, resulting in my new status as honorary Blackfoot.

By Wednesday I had to take the horror to The Minor Injuries Unit being as it was a minor injury (makes sense really). The foot was still attached to me ankle but was starting to resemble an over stuffed pillow and my toes were disappearing.
The MI unit also claims to deal with your MI faster than the casualty unit 12 miles away where you could get lost for days.

After filling out enough paperwork to slay a forest, the nurse poked and prodded the large object at the end of my leg and the told me I would have to go to casualty for an x-ray.

"But you have an x-ray wotsit here" I said.

She gave me a look.

"Oh no, we couldn't possibly get that great big fat foot in our dear little machine. You might break it".

There was no time to write goodbye notes to the family, I had to be back at work in two hours, so I jumped (well, no, not really) in the car and broke the speed limit to Truro.

The casualty unit was as busy as it could be, with two people waiting in front of me. I was doomed.
There followed a long, boring saga of out of date magazines, a broken vending machine and being locked in because of a helicopter landing outside the main doors, before I eventually made it to the hallowed x-ray halls. Here they managed to get the horror in their machine and promptly (no, stupidass, not promptly) told me that I could, maybe, there was a possibility that I (the bastard hoover) had cracked a tiny bone in the top of me foot.

I had already projected forward into choosing the colour for a bone mending plaster and was wondering if I could still hobble dramatically about at work when I was informed that it was probably best to rest it!.

"What? No purple plaster? No stylish bone fixings to encourage sympathy and small but appropriate gifts?"

"Oh my God, no." the x-ray person said "Do you honestly think that we could let our plaster technicians be exposed to that thing? You might break them."

.

(today the swelling has gone down but please note that varnish was chosen to match temporary skin discolouration.
Small fluffy toys, confectionery and 'get well foot' cards may be sent down the intertube. )